


Broken Trust

by st_mick



Series: He is the Sun... [3]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Amy and Eleven are going to have a lot to answer for, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, If anyone can fix broken plastic it's Jack, M/M, Multi, Of course the Centurion met the Captain, Rory loves the Doctor - no matter his regeneration, lots of sexytimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 00:20:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15424860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/st_mick/pseuds/st_mick
Summary: There's only one known cure for regeneration sickness, other than regeneration, and that's not really a viable option for Rory and his new physiology.  Eleven remembers how the cure is/was/will be obtained, but the only way is to dump Rory in Leadworth.  That does not go quite to plan, because Amy can be cruel when she panics.  Nine, Jack and Rose show up, as well as Ten.  Rory takes comfort where he can, though he despairs of the return of his wife and Doctor.





	1. Checking In

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to "When the Love is Worth the Pain" and "Fascination". I tried to do a lead-in to explain things, but this may make more much sense if at least "Fascination" is read, first.

It had been three days since they had returned to their own universe.  The portal had been left unattended, so there had been no opportunity to pursue those responsible for opening it.  The Doctor had taken them into the vortex to give Rory time to recuperate. 

Just as well, because Rory was not in any condition for another fight.  Every time he felt as though he was adjusting to his new physiology, something would happen to remind him that his own body was now utterly (and literally) alien to him.  He had lost track of the number of panic attacks he’d had since waking from the procedure.  He knew he would adapt, but in the meantime there were physical and emotional consequences associated with his decision.

On the physical side, he had been almost completely reconstructed with a Gallifreyan physiology.  The Waverider’s sentient computer, Gideon, had used the Doctor’s body as a template to rebuild what the Silence had destroyed.

Rory was still trying to wrap his (new) mind around why his own physiology had been failing, even before the Silence had injured (killed) him.  He recoiled from the memory of being brought back and focused, once more, on what the Doctor had told him. 

The pathogen from the dog’s bite on Barcelona had caused a fever that almost killed him.  The cure was a vaccine that broke the fever, but it caused a profound remembering, for Rory.  He had remembered every moment of every life he had lived.  And his human mind was unable to cope.  So the Doctor had helped him to organize all of the memories. 

But what the Doctor had not realized was that the remembering had happened not only in Rory’s mind, but in his body, as well.  The memory of nineteen centuries began to assert itself, and his cells had begun to remember being plastic.

Rory shuddered at the thought.  Thankfully the TARDIS had interceded.  The weight of the years he had remembered had already begun a subtle mutation in Rory’s DNA, so mapping the alterations using human DNA had not been an option.  Her only other choice had been to substitute the Doctor’s genetic makeup as a template for the changes that Rory’s body was undergoing. 

Unfortunately, the new genetic structure was not compatible with Rory’s human physiology.  His body would have weakened quickly – had already begun to do so – and Rory would have been dead within a linear year, even if he had not faced the Silence in the parallel universe.

The amazing thing was that Gideon could do what the TARDIS could not.  The medical capabilities of the Waverider were incredibly advanced.  Even the Doctor had been impressed.  Rory wondered at the timing of it all, but he was grateful.  Mostly.  The memory of the light had not yet faded enough, but he was gaining ground.

On the emotional side, Rory felt he was faring fairly well, though there was some anxiety and grief.  He was no longer human.  The Doctor had warned him, but he had been unable to prepare himself for the shock of that.  Since their return, Rory had been poring over medical books and doing body scans in the med bay, exploring his new physiology.

He had attempted to study it before, of course, hoping to have useful information should the Doctor ever require medical assistance.  But it had been so complex that he had been quickly overwhelmed.  He was grateful to the Doctor for patiently guiding him through the landscape of his new physical reality, answering questions and simply being a calming presence whenever it became too much.

Rory had decided that he might as well face facts.  It wasn’t like he had never felt awkward in his own body.  This was just a new kind of awkward.  And, as the Doctor reminded him almost hourly, he would grow accustomed to it, in time.

He found he was fascinated by his own reaction.  On the one hand, it was shocking.  On the other, did it really matter?  He was still himself.  He even still looked like himself, though his skin had become softer and smoother, much like the Doctor’s.  Amy had been fascinated, trying to touch whatever bit that might be exposed in her presence, but there had been a complication to the process, and he had to keep reminding her that every touch, no matter how gentle or loving, was terribly painful.  The Doctor had assured him this would pass, but in the meantime, he had been avoiding both of them, and was lonely for what he could not currently abide.

On the plus side, he found the changes to his brain structure to be a welcome relief.  It was as though his brain had become a mini-TARDIS – bigger on the inside – and all of the memories were no longer crowding or feeling crammed in.  There was a spaciousness in his head that made him feel mellow and relaxed, despite the emotional rollercoaster he felt like he’d been riding.

It had been three days now, and for the most part the Doctor and Amy had given him the space he needed to be able to regain some of his equilibrium.  The sheer number of emotional and physical blows he had taken in the parallel universe was staggering.  He had not slept, had not joined them in bed, had kept to himself, except when asking anatomy questions of the Doctor.

Lonely and exhausted, he was sitting in the garden practicing his breathing when the Doctor and Amy joined him.  He sighed.  He had expected this, knowing they would give him space, but they were not going to allow him to isolate himself.

“Time to talk, Rory,” the Doctor said quietly as he sat on Rory’s right.  Amy sat on his left and caught herself before she could kiss his cheek.  “Are you ready?”

Rory shrugged a shoulder.  He wasn’t sure that he was, but he also wasn’t sure that he ever would be, and that certainly shouldn’t stop him.  “It was an eventful couple of days,” he said.

Amy gave a soft snort and shook her head.  “Master of understatement, you are,” she mumbled.

“Rip’s memories hurt, but I thought we handled it well,” he began.

The Doctor hummed his agreement.

“But that was probably mostly the TARDIS.”

“No, that was mostly you.  She just held you steady, kept you from panicking.”

“Did you want Rip to beat you up?” Amy asked timidly.

Rory sighed.  “Not really.  I knew letting him fight would help him.  And I… I had just described Autons to Sara.  I…  I didn’t mind taking a few punches.”

Amy moved a hand over his arm, careful not to touch him, but close enough that he felt the heat of her skin.  “You know I forgive you, Rory.  I just wish you could forgive yourself,” she whispered, her voice taking on the cadence that always suggested tearfulness.

“And remember that it could not have happened any other way,” the Doctor added.

“What do you mean?” Rory asked.

“The fact that you were able to resist the programming was… extraordinary.  But think it through.  Had you continued to resist, you would have still been a part of the Nestene Consciousness, and you would have been unmade, with the rest of the Autons.  Amy would have survived and freed me from the Pandorica, and we would have used the vortex manipulator to escape.  Without the Pandorica.  No Pandorica, no reboot.

“But killing Amy was such an anathema to you that you separated from the Nestene Consciousness.  You survived and set me free, and you brought the Pandorica safely through the years to me.”  The Doctor smiled.  “It all happened the best way it could have, and I think it’s time to forgive yourself, Rory.”

Rory frowned, considering the Doctor’s logic.  But he was the Doctor.  He would have figured something out.  He always did…

“Not always, Rory,” the Doctor smiled sadly.

“Eavesdropping again?” Amy asked with a smirk.

“Sorry, he’s still cooking, so to speak.  Wide open.  Can’t not hear.”

“It’s mostly settled.  I still have moments, but I wasn’t going to let him actually _hurt_ me.”

“He broke your nose, knocked out a tooth, cracked two ribs, and fractured your jaw and cheekbone,” the Doctor said, growing cross.  “You were lucky Gideon was able to fix it all, including the tooth.”

Rory shook his head.  “I know how much of a beating I can take, Doctor.”

He was surprised to hear Amy gasp out a sob, at that.  He took her hand but hissed at the sensation.  Still, he gave it a squeeze before dropping it.

“Doctor, is this normal?” Amy asked.

The Doctor frowned and nodded slowly.  “New skin, new nerve endings.  I used to have something that could have cured it, but I gave it away, some years ago.  I’m afraid he’ll have to recover naturally, and he’s going to be hyper-sensitive to touch for a few weeks.”

“Weeks?” they both echoed.  “It will be weeks before I can touch him?” Amy went on, looking appalled.  Then she frowned.  “How will he sleep?”

“The effect should be negligible when he’s lying down, spreading his weight over a greater surface area.  He should be able to sleep without difficulty.  The same way his clothes are not too painful.”

The pain had started not long after they had returned to their universe.  Rory had tried dozens of items in the TARDIS’ wardrobe, and it had taken her intervention to find something he could bear to have against his skin.  But he had noticed a slight improvement, as the hours passed.  He could only hope it would continue.

***


	2. Memories

The Doctor reached around Rory and touched Amy’s arm.  _Ask him about Jack._   Amy looked from the Doctor to Rory.  “So that day, in your mind, you mentioned someone.”  Rory shifted uncomfortably as she asked, “Who is Jack?”

Rory looked at the Doctor, who met his gaze steadily.  “One of the Doctor’s companions.  The ninth one, right?”

The Doctor nodded.  “And tenth.  How do you know Jack, Rory?”

“I met him when I was guarding the Pandorica, so I’m not certain that I do, really,” Rory sighed.  “It was 1902.  Eighteen centuries, and the last one seemed like it was going to be the longest.  I was toying with the idea of another bout of insanity when Jack showed up with his anachronistic coat and Torchwood credentials.”  He snorted.  “I was neither impressed nor amused.”

“But were you curious?”

Rory shrugged.  “Not at first.  At first I thought he might be a member of the Alliance.  And when he tried to scan the Pandorica with his vortex manipulator…”  Rory was shaking his head, staring at his shaking hands.  "And then he touched it."

“You killed him.”

Rory nodded.  “I…” he cleared his throat.  “I didn’t want to.  I warned him, so many times.  But he just wouldn’t stop.  Acted like it was a joke.  And non-lethal force wasn’t really working.”

“Wait a minute,” Amy was frowning.

“He revived within a few minutes,” Rory chuckled.  “Scared the bejesus out of me.  I think me killing him actually earned his respect.  He started coming around every few weeks, to talk.  It didn’t take us long to realize we had a friend in common.” 

He sighed.  “He came and went.  A decade passed, and the Great War began.  Jack went off to fight.  When he came back, he visited more often.  I had noticed that he wasn’t aging, and I guess he felt like I understood his predicament better than most.”

“What do you mean, he revived?” Amy asked, confused.  "And wasn't aging?"

“Every time he died, he’d come back again.  He didn’t know why, but he knew it had something to do with the game station, and his first death.  He said you left him there,” Rory seemed almost reluctant to say, looking hesitantly at the Doctor.

The Doctor sighed.  “I did.”  He ran a hand through his hair.  “Rose looked into the vortex – had the whole bloody thing spinning around in her head.  She brought him back, but she didn’t know what she was doing.  So she brought him back, for good.  She made him a fixed point.  A living, breathing, fixed point.”

“But… he had no idea what had happened to him.  Wouldn’t it have been kinder to explain and make your farewells?”

“Yes, and I should have.  But there just wasn’t time.  I had to get the vortex out of Rose.  And in doing that, I…  Then I needed to get her safely back home before I regenerated.”

Rory sniffed.  “I’m glad you weren’t just being cruel.”

“No, that came later,” the Doctor muttered bitterly.  “When he found the right version of me.  I told him he was wrong.”  Rory winced, and he hung his head.  “Not one of my finer moments, but I had a difficult time articulating what a fixed point feels like, to a Time Lord.  We are meant to stay away from those.  It’s a visceral reaction.”  He finally looked at Rory.  “I eventually apologized.”

Rory nodded.  “He went off to fight again in 1940 to avoid meeting you or his younger self.”

“That wasn’t until 1941.”

“I think he was desperate to avoid the temptation,” Rory replied.  “He missed you.”  He shook his head at the sad expression on the Doctor’s face.  “He returned in 1943, and he visited often.  We got to be… good friends.”

Amy’s eyes widened.  “You said the plastic didn’t work!”

“No, you said that,” Rory corrected.  “And for those first eighteen centuries, it didn’t.  But Jack was... persistent.”

The Doctor snorted.

“So it was, what?  Psychological?” Amy knew she had no reason to be annoyed, but she didn’t like that he had kept this from her.

“Okay, two things.  First, yes.  I felt so guilty about killing you, and I was so terrified of hurting someone else, that I didn’t allow another person near me for one thousand, eight hundred and forty-odd years.  The only reason I let Jack near me was because I knew I couldn’t do him any permanent harm.”

Amy reached out, but caught herself before she touched him.

“So you… got together?”

Rory eyed her warily, nodding.  “The plastic was damaged in the fire.  He tried to repair me, but it was pretty awful.  He had to do a lot of convincing.”

He sighed.  “The second thing is, I didn’t remember any of this until a few weeks ago.”  He shook his head.  “The one person who meant something, in all those years, and I didn’t even remember him.”

“Did he notice things disappearing?” the Doctor asked, trying to head off the dark mood that Rory was flirting with.

“Yes.  It frightened him, too.”  Rory stared at his hands for another moment.  “And then, one day in 1963, Jack Harkness didn’t exist anymore.”  He struggled with the emotion around that for a moment before looking at the Doctor.  “Would he remember me?”

“He’s a time traveler, so maybe memory works differently, for him.  He might.”

“Is he still at Torchwood?”

The Doctor hesitated.  Then he sighed.  “Do you remember the… thing… with the children, in 2009?”

Rory and Amy both nodded. 

“Well, Jack’s the one who released the aliens’ hold on the children.  But it was at a terrible cost.”  The Doctor went on to explain Jack’s losses that day, and the sacrifice he was forced to make.  Rory was crying for his friend, by the time the Doctor finished.

“I saw him one more time, just before I regenerated.  “He was still in despair, but he was still Jack.  Gave me hope he’d find his feet, eventually.”  He gave Rory a long, hard look.  “How is it I didn’t see him, when we were going through your memories?”

“I took them, while you were resting or going through others.”

“Why?” the Doctor frowned, confused.

Rory shrugged.  “They were more personal than the rest.”

“I suppose you’re right.  Sixty years of friendship.  Curious that you were able to do that, though.”

“It wasn’t that difficult – like you didn’t want to see.  Maybe that instinct to stay away?”

The Doctor nodded. 

They sat quietly for a while before Amy spoke up.  “We aren’t sure if it was a good thing, or a bad thing,” she said, hesitantly, “you seeing your Roman family.”

Rory’s face lit with a warm smile.  “It was good,” he said in a soft voice.  “What had hurt more than anything was the idea that they hadn’t been real.  The fact that they were is…” he shook his head, smiling even as tears began to fall.  “And how many times did I try to bargain – thinking about what I’d be willing to give, just to see them one more time?”

Amy had to sit on her hands to keep from reaching out to embrace Rory as he continued to cry softly.  She looked over at the Doctor, who seemed to be having the same struggle.

“I feel like I’ve been given such a gift,” he said, taking the Doctor’s handkerchief and wincing as he blew his nose.  “They were _real_!  They really lived.  They…” he choked.  “They were so beautiful, weren’t they?”

“Yes, they were,” Amy brushed away a tear of her own.

“They really were,” the Doctor said softly, with a smile.  "And you may be interested to know that Rip is a descendant of Drusus."

Rory chuckled, and Amy smiled.

Rory sniffed again.  “Are you mad, that I kissed Aelia?” he asked Amy.

She let out a laugh.  “Of course not, you idiot.  How could I be?  She was pretty much me.”

The Doctor did not look at Rory, who worked very hard not to contradict Amy, even in his head.  But how to explain that Aelia _was_ a different woman, and Renatus’ love had become his own?

“So Kovarian did us a favor,” the Doctor said, tactfully changing the subject.

Amy gave him a scathing look.

“No, she did,” he protested.  “She explained how Rory ended up a proper plastic Roman with Roman memories, and yet also with his own.”  He shook his head.  “So much effort for that one charade,” he shook his head, but then looked at Rory and smiled.  “And still you foiled them all.  Fantastic Rory!”

“Were you able to get anything from her eye drive?” Rory asked, deflecting the praise.

“A bit,” the Doctor said.  “I still need to work on it.  The energy hits you took from the Silence did extensive damage.”

“What made you think to put it on?” Amy asked.

Rory shrugged.  “I figured she wasn’t playing pirate, that she needed it.  And she knew where the Silence were, even when they weren’t in front of her.”

“Did it hurt?” Amy seemed to be collecting Rory’s hurts, hoarding them in order to try to make up for them, somehow.

“Maybe,” he said.  “I was focused on other things.”  He grimaced.  “I’m sorry, Doctor.  I know you don’t like the thought of anyone being killed,” he sighed.

“Oh, Rory,” the Doctor sighed.  “I know you had no choice.”  He reached out but caught himself before he touched Rory.  “It’s all right.”

Rory reached out and wrapped an arm around each of his loves.  He gave Amy a swift kiss, then the Doctor, and then released them with an anguished cry of pain.  He stood and walked some distance away, waiting for it to subside.

The Doctor stared after Rory, smarting from sensing Rory’s pain, and his eyes became unfocused.  Suddenly, a set of hidden memories bloomed, bright and loud in his mind.  His eyes widened, and he paled.

“Doctor?” Amy asked, concerned at the change in his demeanor.

“Oh, no,” he murmured.  “Oh, please no.”

***


	3. Abandonment

“Doctor, what is it?”

The Doctor watched as Rory walked further away.  “Amy, I need for you to trust me.”

“Of course I trust you,” she protested, but he held up a hand.

“No, Amy.  This is beyond anything I have ever asked of you, but you need to trust me, that I am doing the right thing for Rory, in the long run.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that I am about to hurt him, quite badly, and you need to go along with it and trust that this is what is best for him.”

Amy began to ask what he meant, but Rory was walking back towards them. 

“I promise I’ll explain later, but please…”

“All right, Doctor,” she said, feeling a little ill – what did he mean, _hurt Rory_?

The Doctor rose and in an awkwardly forced cheerfulness, said, “Rory, you have gone all wrong.  I think we need to take you home so you can rest and recuperate.”

Rory frowned.  “What?”

“You heard me.  What you need is peace and quiet.  A good rest will set you to rights.  Come along,” he called out, taking Amy’s hand and leaving the garden, walking towards the control room.  He reached out and let the TARDIS know what to pack.

“Doctor, what are you talking about?” Rory asked, following.  “You said you weren’t going to take me… back to Leadworth.”  Leadworth was not home, anymore.

“Changed my mind.  People to go, things to see, places to do…” the Doctor was spinning around the console, flipping switches and pulling levers.

“You want me to leave?” Rory was beginning to feel panicked.

“Rory, we can’t keep mollycoddling you.  It’s already been weeks and weeks.  There are things that need to be done.”

Rory felt himself flush, and a hot, sick feeling began to grow and squirm inside of him.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was such a bother,” he snarked.

“Well I’m sorry, but you are.  And we can only hang out in the vortex so long,” the Doctor felt ill at the things coming out of his mouth.  And the look on Rory’s face…

“For how long?” Rory asked, barely controlling the panic that was rising as the Doctor turned away without answering.  He turned to Amy.  “You want this, too?”

Amy was fighting panic, as well.  She steeled herself and looked at Rory, who was pale and hurt and… “Well, we can’t even touch you,” she blurted, her anger at having to do this easily misinterpreted by her husband.  “And…” she grasped at something that would make him leave.  Clearly, that’s what the Doctor wanted. 

She said the first horrible thing that came to mind.  “And maybe two is more fun than three, after all, if it’s the right two.”  She knew as soon as she said it that she had gone too far.  She couldn’t bear to look at Rory, to see the damage she had just inflicted.  She leaned back against the console and crossed her arms, studying her nails, praying for this to be over, soon.

Rory went very, very still.  He looked from her to the Doctor, who looked at Amy with a startled expression before turning away and rummaging under the console for something.  Rory nodded.  “So you’re putting me out,” he said, feeling as though his new insides were twisting and melting.  Panic gave way to a hollow feeling of loss.

“It’s for the best, Rory, you’ll see,” the Doctor said, his tone harsh though his words were sincere.  “You’re just… all wrong, right now.”  In the next moment, the TARDIS landed.  “Here we are!” he said cheerfully.  He came around the console, holding a messenger bag.  “Here are your things, and some books so you can learn more about your new physiology.  And there’s a list of do’s and don’ts.  No human medicine.  An aspirin could do you in faster than a blast from a Silence.”

As he spoke, the Doctor shuffled Rory out of the TARDIS.  He shoved the messenger bag into Rory’s chest, eliciting a cry of pain at the contact.  Rory dropped the bag to the ground as the Doctor shut the door and leaned against it, hating himself.

Rory ran his hand along the door.  “And you?” he asked the TARDIS.  In response, the reassuring vibration vanished, and she turned from a living being to wood, under his hand.  He could not contain the sob the tore from his chest.  “But I love you all, so much.  What did I do wrong?”

The Doctor could not tear himself away from the door.  Amy came to his side and pressed her ear against it, as well, crying as she listened to her husband’s new hearts break and having no idea why they had just done such a horrible thing to him.

“Wrong,” Rory muttered.  “I’ve gone wrong.  Like Jack.  This is why you didn’t want me to do it,” Rory whispered to the door, realization dawning.  “You said I’d lose my humanity.  And that’s really the only thing that appealed to you…”  He could hardly breathe.  _Shallow breaths_ , he reminded himself.  “I must be such an abomination to you.  A reminder of what you have lost.”

It took all the Doctor’s strength not to open the door and roundly contradict the conclusion Rory had drawn.  It almost broke his hearts to hear Rory’s next words, “I’m not going to see you again, am I?”

Unable to bear what was happening, the TARDIS threw a lever and began to dematerialize.  The Doctor and Amy heard Rory whisper a broken, “Goodbye,” and they were gone.

***

Rory slid to his knees as the TARDIS dematerialized under his hands.  Some detached part of his mind told him he was in shock, but then another thought short-circuited everything else. 

The Doctor and Amy. 

His beloveds.

Gone.

***

“What did we just do?” Amy asked, her face streaked with tears.

The Doctor sniffed.  “We just completely dismantled and devastated the best man we know.”

“But why?  Why did we do that?”

“I was only trying to drop him off, to shake him.  To make him wonder if we’d be back.  But… now he’s convinced we’ve left him.”

“What I said… it was horrible,” Amy began crying again.  “I didn’t mean it – I panicked!”

The Doctor pulled her into his arms.  “I know.  Shh.”  As she calmed, he explained to her why they had just left Rory, alone and in pain and vulnerable.

***

Rory sat where he had fallen, unmoving, unseeing, for almost twenty hours.  He did not notice when night fell.  He did not notice when the rain started at dawn.  He had been sitting in the rain for half a day when his father, who had come by to water the plants, found him.  He cried out when his father touched his shoulder, roused by the pain of the contact.

“Son, what’s going on?” Brian asked, frightened more by his son’s anguish than by his pain. 

Rory managed to stand and enter the house, his father following with the messenger bag.

“Rory, how long have you been out there?” he asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Rory answered, dripping onto the kitchen floor while his father put the kettle on.  He startled when his father approached him.  “Dad, please don’t.  I… My skin is really sensitive, and I can’t be touched, right now.”

“I won’t touch you, Son.  But your clothes are soaked, and you’re almost blue with cold.  Please, go have a bath.  I’ll fix some tea and then you can tell me what has happened.”

Rory knew the shock had worn off, because the spray from the shower was agonizing.  He had not even noticed the rain.  He opted for a bath, instead, but the water still stung.  He dried himself as much as he could bear and put on the softest clothes he could find, though they still chafed, painfully.

His father had started a fire and handed him a cup of tea when he returned.  Rory drank the tea but couldn’t even look at the food.  Instead, he found himself telling his father everything. 

Brian had known about the Doctor, about their travels.  And having seen the TARDIS appear at the wedding, he had believed Amy and Rory when they told him about their adventures.  But what they had never shared with him was the danger.  They had not wanted him to worry. 

Now he listened, shocked by his son’s story of dying and being Roman, of killing and then waiting centuries for Amy, of evil aliens and nefarious plots and a grown grandchild whom he had actually glimpsed at the wedding.  Of polyamory which, to his credit, he took rather well.  Of mutation and death and a new physiology.

“Two hearts?” he croaked.

Rory reached for his medical bag.  He handed his father the stethoscope and placed it over one heart, and then the other, wincing at the contact.  Brian looked at Rory, tears in his eyes.  “So this saved you from dying?”

“I would have, within a year,” Rory said.

“And this was just three days ago?”

“Four, now.”  Rory could have told him the exact number of hours, minutes and seconds.  He briefly wondered if it was the Gallifreyan physiology or the Doctor’s genetic template that dictated this.

“You must be exhausted.”

Rory merely shrugged.

“And the… sensitivity is a byproduct?”

“That’s the assumption.”

“And… what else?”

“The Doctor dropped me off to rest and recuperate,” Rory said, his voice mechanical.  He wasn’t ready to say more, but his father was an observant man.  His son was wrecked, and it wasn’t because of some medical procedure. 

“And Amy stayed with him?”

“I was slowing them down.  They had things to do,” Rory said, not looking at his father.  He wasn’t ready to tell him that his beloveds no longer wanted him.  They only wanted one another.  Isn’t that what Amy had said?

“But… you’re still recovering!” Brian was becoming angry.  How dare they!  Amy had always been flighty, but this… this was something hard, and cruel.  He never would have expected it of her, nor of anyone who truly cared about Rory.

“I’ll be fine, Dad,” Rory said, not even bothering to try to sound convincing.

“Well, surely they won’t be gone, for long,” Brian saw Rory’s hands shake as he put his cup on the table.  “Rory, they are coming back, aren’t they?”

Rory stood up.  “I’m going to need a lot of sleep, Dad, so how about I call you and check in every few days?”

“No,” Brian said.  Rory turned to look at him.  “I understand you need time to yourself, and that you need sleep.  But I am not leaving you alone, right now.  I will be here at seven, every evening, and we’ll have tea together.  All right?”

Rory nodded.  He fought back tears.  “Thank you.”

***

For two weeks, Rory slept round the clock.  He only roused when his father came by to try to feed him.  He ate very little, and knew he was becoming dehydrated, but he could not even force anything down.

Rory’s sensitivity did not make any noticeable improvements, but his fatigue began to abate, slightly.  He got up in the mornings and walked for a while before returning to his bed.  And he would stay up with his father, watching something mindless on telly rather than only waking for the half hour it took to determine that he had no appetite.

Brian was worried about his son.  It had been almost three weeks when he arrived with dinner one evening to see the messenger bag on the kitchen table.  He remembered bringing it in the night he’d found Rory sitting on the cold ground, in the rain.  Rory was just staring at it, looking grieved and haunted.  “What is it, Son?”

“The Doctor handed it to me when he walked me out of the TARDIS,” Rory said, his voice very quiet.  “He said it had some medical books, so I could get more familiar with…” his voice trailed off.

“Son?”

“I forgot he also said my things were in there.”

Brian frowned.  He opened the bag and was stunned to see that, like Rory said of the TARDIS, it was bigger on the inside.  It appeared to contain…

“It’s all of my stuff,” Rory confirmed.  “All of it.  I suppose I knew,” he said, shaking his head.  “I knew I’d been kicked out.  Just too thick to realize…” he stopped speaking.

By now Brian knew not to touch his son.  He pulled out a chair and sat next to him, staring at the bag with him.

“I thought they loved me,” Rory choked, and Brian’s heart hurt for his son.  “I was in his mind.  I…  I don’t understand this, after what I felt from them.”

Rory had explained the touch telepathy, how it had grown stronger as the three had grown closer.  He was not sure how his son could have been mistaken, but Amy’s and the Doctor’s actions were far more telling, to his mind.  “You said he’s an old man.  Maybe he’s gotten good at hiding things,” he guessed.

Rory nodded.  “Of course.  You’re right.”

“Am I?” Brian was surprised.  “You think so?”

Rory nodded again.  “I do.  Because I’m older than him.”  He looked at his father, not bothering to hide his pain, his age.

Brian gasped and almost fell off of his chair.  “Son!”

Rory closed his eyes and rubbed his face, groaning at the sensation.  “I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have…”

“No, Son.  You were right to,” Brian recovered quickly.  “It’s good that you let me see.”

Rory nodded.  "Would you like to see your grand-daughter?  And my children from Rome?”

Brian blinked, then nodded.  Rory reached into the messenger bag and pulled out his phone.  Amy had transferred the pictures the day they returned to their own universe.  He let Brian flip through the pictures, telling him about each child, in turn.

Brian found he needed a handkerchief when Rory told him about Melody, who became Mels, who died and became River.  “It’s so much, Son,” he said.  “I don’t know how you’ve taken it all in stride.”

Rory shrugged.  “Got to keep Amy and the Doctor safe.  Can’t do that if I fall apart.”  His face crumpled as he realized once again that they were gone.  

Brian saw that the thing keeping his son grounded, his purpose, had been watching over the two people he loved.  Now they were gone, and the contents of that messenger bag really did make it seem like they would not be returning.  For the first time, Brian began to worry for his son’s welfare.

***


	4. Reunion?

Three weeks, three days, twenty-one hours and forty-seven minutes had passed since he had exited the TARDIS, when Rory heard her engines.  He had been to the shops and had returned via the lane that ran behind the house.  The TARDIS landed where it always did, in one of the flower beds in the backyard. 

Rory put down the grocery bag and reached into his shirt, pulling the cord that his key hung from over his head.  He was raising the key to the door when it opened, and out stepped Jack Harkness, who was saying, “I’ll have a look around, but I’m telling you, this isn’t Cardiff.”

“Jack!  We were just talking about you!” Rory exclaimed with his first smile in weeks, dropping the key and taking Jack in his arms and hugging him.  He bit back the cry of pain at the contact.

He released Jack and stepped back, only to find Jack placing his hands on either side of his face and leaning in for a kiss.  This time he did let out a groan of pain, though it was likely misinterpreted by the man now plundering his mouth rather thoroughly.

Rory could not hide his pain as Jack withdrew.  He noticed a look of concern cross Jack’s face as he heard a soft, “Ahem,” behind him.

“I’m sorry, Amy, but it’s Jack.  I couldn’t res…” his voice trailed off as he turned and looked into the chocolate eyes of a blonde woman who was much shorter and much jollier than Amy.  He paled a bit at the sight of her.  “You.  You’re Rose Tyler,” he said, feeling off balance.

“That’s me,” she smiled.  “What’s your name?”

“Rory Williams,” he answered distractedly.  He looked over to the doors of the TARDIS to see a man in a leather jacket, staring at him with piercing blue eyes.  He had short-cropped hair, strong features and an angular bone structure. 

He was striking, but he was the wrong Doctor.  _Of course.  You know they’re not coming back, you goddamned fool._

If possible, Rory paled further.  Jack reached out and took his elbow, to steady him, but it was too much.  He hissed in pain and pulled away, looking at Jack, realization dawning.  “Jack.  Oh, God.  You don’t even know me, do you?”  He felt his hearts breaking in a brand new way.

Jack gave his cheekiest grin, though it didn’t reach his eyes, which were bright with concern.  “Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t want to,” he said.  “You all right?”

Rory didn’t answer.  He looked at the Doctor and nodded to the TARDIS.  “May I?”

The Doctor frowned warily, but nodded.  Rory surprised him when he did not approach the door.  Rather, he walked up to the side and ran a hand along it.  “Are you still not speaking to me?” he asked. 

There was a hum, and Rory felt an answer, of sorts.  _Regret_. 

“Will you tell me what I did wrong?” he asked, and felt her turn to wood, again.  “No!  No, please don’t do that.  I’ll stop asking questions, but please don’t.  It hurts when you do that.”

He felt her hum again.  _Love.  Pretty.  Regret._   He leaned his forehead against her.  “I’ve missed you,” he whispered.  “I’ve missed your song.”

The Doctor was staring at the strange man, wondering at his conversation with the TARDIS.  No one else spoke to her, like that.  Well, Jack did, sometimes.  But the Doctor had never heard her reply in such a way to anyone besides himself.  Not so they seemed to understand, anyway.

“Hey, Doc?” Jack sidled up to him and showed him the result of the scan he had run on Rory, using his vortex manipulator.

“How is that possible?” the Doctor’s temper flared and he grabbed Rory by the elbow, ignoring his yelp of pain as his back was shoved up against the TARDIS.  The Doctor pressed a hand to each heart.  “How are you possible?” he shouted, feeling both hearts beating a steady rhythm, speeding up as Rory gasped and cried out again.

“Doctor, you’re hurting him!” Rose exclaimed, grabbing his arm and pulling until he released Rory.

“Let’s just find out what’s going on, here,” Jack said, laying a restraining hand on the Doctor’s chest as Rory slid to the ground.  The TARDIS felt too hard against his back, so he slumped forward, feeling dizzy.

“Explain yourself,” the Doctor growled at Rory.

Rory gave a tired wheeze.  “Fine.  How old are you?”

This question surprised the Doctor.  “Nine hundred and one.  Or thereabouts,” he answered.

“When I know you, you are… older.  Amy and I travel…” he trailed off, looking away.  “I was human.  I traveled with you.  At one point, I was plastic – Auton – and took the slow path from Roman Britain to the nineteen nineties, when we…” he stopped himself just in time.  “Spoilers... 

“And then I was me again, but remembered some of it.  But then I got an alien vaccine and my mind remembered all of the memories and my body remembered being plastic, and the only way to stop a massive mutation was by substituting your genetic template for the plastic structure, which is what the TARDIS did.”

“Human physiology would fail, with that genetic structure,” Jack murmured.

Rory nodded.  “They gave me a year, tops.  But then we were aboard a… really advanced ship, and my internal organs had been catastrophically damaged by the…” he growled and spat, “Spoilers.”  He huffed and looked up at the Doctor.  “They were able to take a template of your physiology and recreate mine according to that mapping, hoping it would be sustainable.  They said it was a success,” he muttered unenthusiastically.

“I’ve never heard of that kind of technology,” the Doctor frowned.  “Where were they from?”

“Spoilers,” Rory said, taking perverse pleasure in inflicting the same sort of frustration on this Doctor as River had, time and again, inflicted on them all.

The Doctor sneered at him.  “And what’s wrong with you now, then?”

“Why should anything be wrong?” Rory gave him a defiant grin.  “I’m no longer human, but I’m still me.  But apparently, I’m an aberration.  Or abomination.  I forget which…”

“What are you talking about?” the Doctor asked, confused.

“You dumped me back here three days after the procedure, without an explanation.  I can only assume…”

“Look, if I left you…”

“If?” Rory roared, his temper flaring.  His mask slipped and the Doctor caught a glimpse of the Last Centurion.  He found himself taking a step back, despite the frailty of the young man staring up at him from the ground.

“If I left you behind, without intending to return,” the Doctor amended, “then it was not because you have two hearts, I promise you.  I would never object to such a thing, if it meant saving a life.”

“Doc,” Jack stood and put a hand on the Doctor’s shoulder, showing him the readout on the vortex manipulator.  “When was the procedure?” he knelt down and asked kindly.

“Four weeks ago.”

“Why aren’t you eating?” the Doctor asked brusquely.

Rory leaned back against the TARDIS, wincing.  “What do you care?” he asked, still smarting from being manhandled by the Time Lord and feeling surly.

Rose came and knelt beside him with his grocery bag.  “Here.  This was in your bag.  Have a sip, will you?”  She took the top off of a bottle of water and handed it to him.  As he drank, she let the handles fall just so, and the Doctor and Jack were able to see the contents of the bag.

“You’re suffering from severe neuropathy,” Jack said.

Rory nodded.  “That’s not exactly escaped my notice.”

Jack grinned at Rory’s sarcasm, but then frowned.  “Then surely you knew hugging me would be painful.  Why did you do it?”

“You’re my friend.  Were.  Or will be.  Maybe.  I was glad to see you.”  Rory took another sip of water and looked away.  “And I haven’t touched anyone or been touched in weeks…” 

Jack swallowed.  He knew he would find that painful, as well.  “When did the neuropathy set in?”

“A day or so after the procedure.”

“A day or so?” the Doctor asked, frowning.

“Fine.  Twenty-two hours, ten minutes, and twenty-six seconds after they brought me out of stasis, the neuropathy set in.”

The Doctor looked at him sharply, but then smiled.  “That’s more like it.”

“Doc?” Jack looked from Rory to the Doctor.

“Enhanced time sense.”  He continued his scrutiny of Rory.  “Have you noticed any other changes?”

Rory shook his head.  He attempted another sip of water, but had to force himself to swallow it.  He set the bottle down with a sigh.  He didn’t notice the look that passed between Rose, Jack and the Doctor.

“How long have you been talking to the TARDIS?” the Doctor asked.

“Since you told me she was alive,” Rory answered.  “The day you brought me on board.”  He smiled, but then it faded and he swallowed, fighting the emotion that had arisen.

“And how long have you been hearing her reply?” the Doctor asked, ignoring the sharp look of surprise from Jack.

“Since...” Rory sighed and shook his head.  “Spoilers.”

The Doctor had to admire the savvy it took for Rory to know that he could not share too much of their futures with them.  It was frustrating as hell, but he respected it.  He took a closer look at the young man before him.  There was something very compelling about him, even if he was just a shell of himself, at the moment.  He had an inner strength that made him stand up to the Doctor as few others could.  That alone was… fascinating.

“I used to imagine I’d hear or feel a little hum, when I’d talk to or touch her.  Then, about ten weeks ago, it expanded.”  He huffed.  “Around the same time she changed my genetic structure.”

“That shouldn’t have done it,” Jack muttered.

The Doctor shook his head.  “Why aren’t you eating, Rory?” he asked, his voice gentle.

Rory shook his head.  “Can’t,” he whispered.

“Do you feel ill?  Is it because of the procedure?”

Rory shrugged.  He honestly didn’t know.  “I can’t tell.  I can’t seem to get used to how this all feels.  The fact that everything hurts, all the time, is distracting.  And…” he seemed to debate for a moment, and then decided he just didn’t care.  “And you and my wife left me here to deal with it all, on my own.”

“Wife?” Rose blurted before she could catch herself.

Jack noticed Rory’s choice of words.  Not ‘You ran off with my wife,’ and not ‘My wife ran off with you,’ but ‘You and my wife ran off.’  Interesting.

Rory raised his left hand and waggled his fingers.  “Even the ring hurts.”

“So the key around your neck probably didn’t feel wonderful,” the Doctor remarked.

“May I have it back, please?”  Rory felt like a fool, but it was all he had left of the three beings he loved more than his own life.

“I doubt it fits,” the Doctor said, picking it up off of the ground and inserting it into the lock.  It fit.  “Huh,” he said, surprised.

“Doesn’t matter,” Rory said, not paying attention to what the Doctor was doing.

“I’m going to hang onto it, for the moment,” the Doctor said, pocketing it.  He studiously ignored the outraged look Rose sent his way.

Rory leaned his head back against the TARDIS, ignoring the throb.  “Best be on your way, then,” he said, his voice devoid of all emotion.

Jack looked at him.  “You say we’ll be friends, yes?”

Rory looked at him.  “Maybe.  I don’t know, now.”

“I hope so,” Jack said sincerely.  “But more importantly, I’m willing to take your word for it that we _are_ friends, and I’m going to ask you a really hard question, Rory.”

Rory didn’t look at him.  “Fire away,” he said quietly.

“Why do you have a grocery bag full of ginger beer?”

“Because everything hurts, and the vodka in the freezer didn’t work,” Rory answered tiredly.

“Your body metabolizes it too quickly, now,” the Doctor said.

“Yeah.  Read that in one of the books you tossed at me when you threw me off the TARDIS,” Rory snarked.  He really wanted his key back.  He wanted a lot of things.  Well, only three, really.  Perhaps four.  But he knew there was no point in hoping. 

He slowly got to his feet, steadying himself against the TARDIS.  “Sorry, I know that wasn’t you,” he conceded when he saw the Doctor looking at him with a startled expression.  “Yet.”  He turned a slow circle, getting his bearings.  Then he pointed southwest.  “Cardiff is that way,” he said.  “Now if you don’t mind, I’m really tired.”  He reached down to pick up his grocery bag.

The Doctor took the bag from his hand and passed it to Jack.  “Jack, why don’t you and Rose go get some chips?” 

“Sure!” Jack said enthusiastically.  “Rory, where can we find the best chips in town?”

“The pub,” Rory muttered tiredly.

“Great!  All right Rose?”

Rose looked from the Doctor to Rory, then back again.  She pointed a warning finger at the Doctor before smiling at Rory.  “We’ll see you in a while.”

As they walked off, the Doctor looked at Rory.  “I’d like to check you over in the med bay.  Is that all right?”

“Why?” Rory looked genuinely confused.

The Doctor shook his head.  The poor man had been treated so badly that sincere concern was baffling to him.  “I want to see if I can do anything for your pain.”

“I already know what you’re going to say,” Rory said quietly.  When the Doctor looked surprised, he added, “I’m a nurse.  I know what chronic pain looks like.  And I know that when something reaches a plateau for this long, it’s most likely permanent.”

The Doctor sighed.  “Rory, I’d like to run some tests to confirm, but it seems that you have something we used to call regeneration sickness.  It was rare, but when it happened, without a cure it was permanent, for that regeneration cycle.”

“I was told I probably won’t regenerate.  And I can’t deal with this for thousands of years,” he said.

“Is that why there was a bottle of aspirin in your grocery bag, with the ginger beer?”

Rory looked him in the eye.  “Yes.”

“Look, I can’t make any promises, but there may be something I can do.”  The Doctor stepped to the door of the TARDIS and held out his hand.  “Please?”

***


	5. The Cure

Rory looked at him for a long time, swaying on his feet.  Finally, he nodded and gestured for the Doctor to lead the way.  He tried not to react to the interior of the TARDIS (spoilers), but it was quite beautiful, and he found himself pressing his forehead to one of the coral struts, telling her just that.

“You really love her.”

“She’s my home,” Rory said quietly.  He cleared his throat and looked away.  “Was.”

Once in the med bay, the Doctor had him take off his shoes and shirt and lie down on one of the beds, and he quickly began running scans.  The TARDIS created a cushion of air around Rory, making him more comfortable.  He dozed as the Doctor looked over the results.

He looked at the sleeping man.  There was something almost magnetic about him.  Was it his age?  The fact that he had two hearts?  Or the love and loyalty he clearly had for the TARDIS, and perhaps even the Doctor himself?  He shook himself out of his reverie and realized that Rory was watching him.

For his part, Rory was mesmerized by the man before him.  He knew him so well, and yet not at all.  He kept catching glimpses of the being who still held what was left of his heart – or one of them, at any rate – in the intensity of his gaze, in the flippancy of his remarks, in the pain he tried to hide.  That pain was so much fresher, in these eyes.

“Hello,” the Doctor said, coloring slightly.

“Hello,” Rory smiled at the familiar blush.  “Learn anything useful?”

“The pain is suppressing your appetite.  You’re malnourished and dehydrated, and you’re not going to last very long, if you keep going like this.”

Rory looked at him with that patient, steady gaze.  Then he nodded.  _Good._

“No, it is _not_ good!” the Doctor exclaimed.

Rory looked startled.  “That’s very rude,” he complained.

“I don’t care!” the Doctor shouted.

“What am I meant to do?” Rory shouted back as he sat up.  “I can’t go back to work.  What good is a nurse who can’t touch anyone?  And what good am _I_ , if I can’t touch anyone?  Or be…” all of his bluster disappeared.  “Do you know what this feels like?  For touch to be _so_ important, and not be able to…  This isolation, this loneliness.  I miss you and Amy, but I can’t bear the thought of never being touched again, by anyone…”

The Doctor looked at Rory.  Why was he even hesitating?  How could holding on to a lump of rock possibly be more important than this man’s well-being?  He reached out to the TARDIS, asking for what he needed, and then pulled out the drawer under the counter.  He smiled broadly at what he found inside.  “Oh, that is brilliant!  Truly fantastic!”

He pulled Rory’s key out of his jacket pocket and pulled it off its cord, replacing it with the item he had pulled out of the drawer.  He turned back to Rory, smiling.  “I hope you don’t mind a slight upgrade,” he smiled, placing the cord over Rory’s head.

Rory looked at his key, but it was not his key.  It was some sort of strange stone, shaped like a key.  The stone was quite heavy, with a metallic gleam to it, but definitely stone.  “What is this?”

“Rest it against your skin,” the Doctor said, watching the monitor closely.

Rory did as the Doctor instructed.  Within seconds, he felt a gentle coolness sweep over his skin, calming the hot, prickly pain that had plagued him, all these weeks.  He looked up at the Doctor, his eyes wide with wonder.  “What is this?” he repeated.

“A rock from one of the moons of Gallifrey,” the Doctor answered.  “The last bit in existence, as it happens.  The only known cure for regeneration sickness, other than regenerating, again.”   He reached out and touched the key.  “Since you wear your key all the time, anyway, the TARDIS thought this would be practical and useful.”

Rory closed his hand over the Doctor’s.  “So I should wear it all the time?”

The Doctor was staring at their joined hands, and the expanse of Rory’s chest…  “What?  Oh.  No, the neuropathy should sort itself out in a few weeks’ time, as long as you don’t take that off.  Once it’s sorted, you won’t need to wear it all the time,” he trailed off.  “Though I rather like the thought that you might.”

Rory was looking intently at the Doctor.  He was tracing lazy circles in the back of the Doctor’s hand.  “No objections, here.  I’m the one who wanted my key back, remember?”  He leaned towards the Doctor, slowly.  There was a spark of something familiar in those eyes, and Rory wanted to see more. 

He brushed his lips lightly against the Doctor’s, a whisper.  A breath.  A promise.  He was temporarily distracted that not only did it not hurt, it felt damned _good_.  He held himself where he was, waiting for the Doctor’s response.

The Doctor closed his eyes and shook his head.  “Rory, most Time Lords are asexual, in most of their regenerations.”

Rory chuckled, and the Doctor felt the heat of his breath on his skin.  “Not all Time Lords, Doctor.  Not all regenerations.”  He sighed.  “Are you asexual, or are you punishing yourself?  I couldn’t tell the difference, when I was plastic.”

The Doctor’s breath hitched.  “Why would I…”

“Shh,” Rory soothed, smoothing his hands over the front of the Doctor’s jacket.  “It’s all right.”  His lips were still a whisper away from the Doctor’s.  The Doctor felt him smile.  “I leave it up to you, Doctor, but your pulses are telling me that asexuality is not the issue, here.”  Rory leaned back, bracing his hands on the table behind him, leaving the next move to the Doctor, who was now standing between Rory’s knees.

The Doctor sighed and leaned forward, tangling one hand in Rory’s hair, the other touching his cheek, as though unsure.  Rory opened to the kiss, resisting the urge to think this through.  He returned the Doctor’s kiss but did not shift his weight forward.  He kept his hands to himself, allowing the Doctor to explore.

Emboldened, the Doctor snaked an arm around Rory’s back, pulling him flush against his chest.  The other hand went to Rory’s hip, then moved to his thigh, which the Doctor hitched over his own hip as he leaned further into Rory.

Rory smiled against the Doctor’s mouth, allowing his hands to rove over the Doctor’s body, coming to rest on his backside, pulling him against him.  They both groaned at the friction as they ground their erections against one another.

The Doctor pulled away, gasping.  He backed up.  “What?”

“So,” Rory smiled as he hopped off of the table.  “Not asexual then?”

The Doctor found himself backed against the door, unable to open it.  His shallow breath was coming in gasps as he looked at Rory with a mixture of fear and lust.

“It’s all right.  You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” Rory soothed.  “It’s disconcerting, right?  One minute, you’re happily uninterested in sex; the next, you’re hard as a horny teenager.”  He approached the Doctor slowly, giving him a chance to tell him to stay back.  “Doctor,” his voice was low and rough.  “May I please touch you?”

Something about Rory asking permission seemed to make the Doctor feel safe with him.  He straightened, and then gave the smallest of nods.  Rory smiled and closed the distance between them, slowly.  He reached out and kissed the Doctor, his hands moving everywhere, it seemed. 

The Doctor’s jacket fell to the floor, and Rory made his way under the Doctor’s jumper.  He felt the Doctor’s stomach tremble as his hands grazed over that soft, smooth skin.  Rory stepped back, and the Doctor looked as though he would follow, not ready to stop the kiss.  The Doctor’s eyes widened when Rory dropped to his knees, working the button and zip on the Doctor’s trousers.

“Oh, God, you’re gorgeous,” Rory stared hungrily at the Doctor’s cock as he freed it from his clothing.  He gave it a long, appreciative lick, eliciting a gasp from the Doctor.  He took him in hand and was stroking him softly as he ducked his head and nuzzled his nose in the area between the Doctor’s balls and cock. 

Giving the area a gentle suck, he then spent a good deal of time licking and sucking each testicle, enjoying the Doctor’s moans before licking his way up to the tip of the Doctor’s cock.  He tongued the precum and sucked the head into his mouth, just for a taste.

“Oh!” the Doctor swore in Gallifreyan.  Rory leaned back to look at him.  They merely stared at one another for a moment before the Doctor’s hand found its way back into Rory’s hair.  Rory grinned and swallowed him whole, eliciting a good deal more swearing.  Rory pulled back again, this time to wet his middle finger.  He took the Doctor into his mouth again and began moving in earnest as one hand fondled him and the other… that finger, began teasing his entrance.

As the Doctor began moving his hips and speaking his usual nonsense, Rory slowed down, wondering what this Doctor would do if he teased, just a bit.  The hand at the back of his head pulled his hair, hard.  Rory grinned and scraped his teeth along the Doctor’s cock, making him buck into him with a shout.  Rory growled deep in his throat as he relaxed those muscles and then swallowed.  The Doctor came undone, crying out as he emptied himself down Rory’s throat.

When Rory finally released him, the Doctor collapsed, trousers around his ankles and backside hitting the floor with a smack.  “What the hell have you done to me?” he asked, sounding far more cross than someone who just got properly blown had any right to.

Rory leaned up against the wall beside him and chuckled.  He was hot and hard, but he was content to just sit beside the Doctor, for the moment.  After a few minutes, he caught his breath.

A few moments more, and the Doctor calmed, as well.  “Were you holding your breath?  You need to learn how your respiratory bypass works.  No need to give yourself a headache.”

Rory shook his head.  “No need.  There are only two men I have any interest in doing that to, and they’re both leaving, very soon.”  He closed his eyes.  “And I doubt I’ll see either of you again.”

The Doctor looked at him.  “Promise me something.”

Rory shook his head again.  “No.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to ask.”

“Fine.  What do you want me to promise?”

“Promise, first.”

“No.”

“You have to.”

“Why?”

“Consider it a gift, in exchange for the key.”

Rory sighed.  “All right, I promise.”

“Wait for me.”

“What?”

“There’s no way in hell I’m not coming back for you, Rory.  I don’t know how far in my future you are, but I feel _this_ , for _you_ , all along my timeline.  It doesn’t normally travel backwards, unless it’s very strong.”

Rory pushed off of the floor, all traces of arousal gone.  “You have no idea what you’re asking.  I… I don’t have it in me to wait again.  And Amy said you two only want each other.”

The Doctor winced at the cruelty of such a statement, but he shook his head.  “I don’t care what she said.  What if she was just trying to get you to go?  What if…”  The Doctor trailed off.  Then his gaze darkened.  “Manipulative bastard!” he growled.  He stood, pulling up his trousers and glaring at Rory.

“What?”

“He made you think he was leaving you, so you’d be a wreck, so I’d feel sorry for you.  Bastard!”

“What?”

“He knew I would never willingly give up the last hunk of Gallifrey I had.  Not without a damned good excuse,” he spat.

“Or… your future self remembered that you actually _struggled_ with the decision to help a friend,” Rory rejoined, suddenly livid.  “You know what?  Fine.  Here.”  He pulled the cord over his head.  “It’s so important to you, keep the fucking thing.  _I don’t care_!”  Rory threw the key at the Doctor, feeling the pain return almost instantly.  He grabbed his shirt and put on his shoes before heading for the door, ignoring the Doctor’s stunned expression.

Jack opened the door with Rose behind him just as Rory reached it.  “What are you two yelling about?” Jack asked, frowning.  He made to move out of Rory’s way, but stopped at the Doctor’s next words.

“Jack, grab him, please,” the Doctor said quietly.

“Sorry, Rory,” Jack said, wrapping his arms around Rory, who screamed in pain and frustration.  He was too weak to struggle much, but he did it anyway, just on principle.  Then he felt the cord drop around his neck, and the Doctor pressed the key against his chest. 

He sagged against Jack in relief and heard the Doctor whisper in his ear, “I’m sorry.”

Rory pushed Jack away from him.  “No.  Here.  Take it back.  You’re right.  It’s the last piece of Gallifrey that you have.  It belongs with you.  You should keep it.”  He held out the cord to the Doctor.  “I don’t need it, anyway.”

“Except you do, because you made a promise.”

“I exchanged a promise for the key.  No key, no promise.”

“The promise stands, whether you keep the key, or not.”

“Like hell it does!”

“I’m not taking the key back, Rory.”  The Doctor folded his arms.

“No, you’re just making me feel like I’m taking something precious from you.”

“You are.”

“Doctor!” Rose scolded.

“He is!” the Doctor turned to Rose.  “But that doesn’t mean I regret it.”  He looked at Rory.  “Look, I’m sorry I reacted badly.  I… I don’t like feeling manipulated.  But you’re right that my future self was remembering what happened and making sure it would happen again.  Not as a manipulation, but for the cure, for you.”  He sighed.  “You’re not taking something precious _from_ me.  I’m giving something precious _to_ you.”

Rory shook his head as he placed the cord around his neck, again.  “You’re wrong.  You’re not coming back.  But I promise I’ll wait a while longer.”

“How long is ‘a while’?” Rose asked, frowning.

Rory sighed.  “With the pain, I only had a few days left in me.  With this,” he ran his fingers over the stone key around his neck and then put on his shirt, “we’ll see.”

“Please hold on,” Rose whispered as she gave him a hug.  “I know they’ll come back for you.”

He smiled at her as she wished them a good night and headed for her room to unwind.  The Doctor ducked his head and headed for the control room.

“What’s got him so embarrassed?” Jack asked.

“He just found out he’s not quite as asexual as he thought he was,” Rory said with a wicked grin.

“Really,” Jack had a faraway look of lust and longing that made Rory laugh.

“Well, I’m expecting my dad for dinner and telly.  I should go.”  He headed for the door, only to see Jack bolt ahead of him and close it.

“Before you go,” he gave his cheekiest grin.  “How about a kiss goodbye?”

Rory gave him a long, sad look.  “I think I’d like that,” he said quietly.

The next thing he knew, his back was to the door and Jack was snogging his face off.  His hands found Jack’s belt loops and pulled him closer.  As Jack released his mouth and began trailing kisses down his neck, Rory groaned.  “How could I have forgotten how good this can feel?”

He felt Jack smile against his neck.  “I’m glad the Doc found a cure,” he sucked at a pulse point, noticing the flutter of the double pulse.  “Oh, that is so hot,” he moaned, moving back up to capture Rory’s mouth.  His hand plunged into the waistband of Rory’s sweatpants and Rory moaned loudly as Jack’s hand closed around his erection.

Rory returned Jack’s kiss and unbuttoned his trousers.  He vaguely remembered Amy calling him a right slut and chuckled giddily into Jack’s mouth at the thought of sex with two different men in the space of an hour.

Well.  Couldn’t be helped.  It was, after all, Jack.  And the Doctor.

Rory quickly pushed that thought from his mind and took hold of Jack’s cock.  Jack gave a strangled cry as Rory pumped and twisted, _just so_.  Jack’s mouth tore from his and bit into Rory’s shoulder as he came hard all over his hand.  In the next moment, Rory came with a growl and a shudder. 

They resumed kissing, leaning against one another, each holding the other up as they caught their breath.  “Jesus, what did you just do?” Jack asked, laughing.  He finally leaned away from Rory and headed for the sink in the counter.  Once he cleaned himself up, Rory followed suit.

“Something someone taught me, a long time ago,” Rory smiled, wondering about time loops and how that might have worked, if he learned that move from Jack, but then Jack just learned it, from him.  He shook his head, not wanting to give himself a headache.  Once he dried his hands, he stepped back up to Jack, who was leaning against the counter.

“When times get tough, I want you to remember something,” Rory said, looking into those impossibly blue eyes.

Jack raised an eyebrow.  “Okay,” he said.

“I am from your future.  Today is the first of November, 2011.  I know everything about you.  And you need to know that you are loved.  By someone – several someones – who know everything about you.  Okay?”

Jack frowned.  “I don’t understand.”

“You don’t need to, right now.”  Rory leaned forward and whispered, “Just know that Javic Thane is etched onto my hearts, and nothing will ever change that.”  He stepped back, noting Jack’s shock.  “If our timelines still cross, and you need a friend, come find me when you remember that.  Okay?”

“No one in this timeline knows my name,” Jack whispered.

“Then I guess it means something that you told me, yeah?” Rory whispered against Jack’s lips.  One more kiss, and Rory left him to find the Doctor in the control room.

“Guess we’ll be on our way, then,” the Doctor said.

“You should probably wipe this from your memory,” Rory said.

“Probably.”

“Are you sure about…” Rory asked, touching the key again.

The Doctor nodded.  “I am.  And I’m truly sorry for making it seem like your pain meant less than an old rock I never even look at.”

Rory nodded.  “I get it.  And you’re welcome to come back for it, once the regeneration sickness…”

“No, it’s yours, now.  It’ll make its way back to the TARDIS, I think.”  The Doctor smiled as Rory shook his head sadly.  He looked at Rory, curious.  “I would think you would be angry.”

“I am,” Rory nodded.

“Then why did you…”

Rory laughed.  “Well, technically _you_ haven’t done anything to make me angry, yet.  And apparently, I can now be hurt and angry and still love and miss you.”  He thumped his chest.  “Two hearts, now.  Plenty of room for it all.”

The Doctor laughed.  “But I’m not your Doctor, I don’t think.”

“Whether that was true when you landed, I can’t say,” Rory replied, stepping close to the Doctor before whispering, “But you are, now.”

They shared a long, sweet kiss before Rory turned and left.  He watched the TARDIS dematerialize and returned to the house, slightly relieved that the bottle of aspirin had been removed from his grocery bag.

***


	6. What's In a Name

Two more weeks passed, during which Rory slept – properly slept, now that he was free from the pain.  His appetite was slow to return, but he was at least attempting to eat the meals that Brian set before him each evening.  He knew he needed to work on hydration, but he was having difficulty, with that.

It was a Saturday morning, and Brian was puttering around, taking care of some minor repairs as his excuse for looking in on Rory.  He was beginning to worry, again.  Rory had told him that the Doctor – or some version of the Doctor, at any rate – had come and helped with the pain, and Brian was terribly relieved to see that improvement.  But nothing else had changed.

He heard a strange sound in the back yard, and stepped out of the door as the blue police box materialized.  He hefted the hammer in his hand, not certain what his intentions were as a lean young man with mad, modern hair and a striped suit stepped out of the TARDIS.  “Hello!” he said cheerily.

“You’re not the one who hurt Rory.  Are you the one who helped him, then?” Brian asked, barely keeping the hostility out of his tone.

The Doctor’s smile faded.  “I’m the one in between, I think.  I came to check in on him.  It’s been about two weeks, right?” 

Brian nodded. 

“How is he?”  He looked around.  “Surely he heard us land.  Where is he?”

“Asleep,” Brian answered.

“Asleep?” the Doctor frowned.

“He sleeps twenty-one hours a day, best I can tell.”

“Is he eating?”

“Just the meal I put in front of him, in the evenings.  But he is eating that, rather than pushing the food around his plate, which is all he was doing, when he was still hurting.”  Brian stuck out his hand.  “Thank you for taking care of that, by the way.  I’m Brian, Rory’s father.”

The Doctor grinned and shook Brian’s hand.  “I am happy to meet you, Brian.”  He looked towards the door.  “Do you mind if I look in, see how he’s doing?”

“I’d appreciate it, if you did.  Seems like he should be doing better…  Not that I know anything about what it must take to recover from a… from a procedure like that, but I guess I just expected more, with the pain gone.”

“So did I, Brian,” the Doctor said as he followed the man up the stairs to Rory’s bedroom.

Rory was lying on his side, facing the door.  One arm was under the pillow, the other holding it.  The duvet was slung low over his hips, showing rather a lot of Rory.  While the Doctor would normally have thought that a rather enjoyable sight, he was distracted by how frail and thin his friend looked.  He pointed his sonic at Rory and scanned him, looking at it to see what it might tell him.

“The biggest problem is dehydration,” the Doctor mumbled.  “The rest seems to be sorting itself out.”

“He’s been drinking electrolytes and trying to hydrate, but he still can’t seem to drink enough.”

The Doctor picked up the bottle on the night table and set it back down again.  “The ginger beer isn’t helping.”

“That’s been strange, too.  I never noticed him being a fan of it, before, but he seems to have gotten a taste for it.”

The Doctor rubbed his forehead.  “It’s the only thing he can get drunk on, now.”

Brian paled.  “Oh, Son,” he put a hand to his mouth.  “And I’ve been bringing it to him.”

The Doctor clapped Brian on the shoulder.  “You had no way of knowing, Brian.  Has he been drinking a lot of it?”

“I bring him six bottles every other day.  Is that a lot, for him?”

The Doctor closed his eyes and nodded.  He looked around the room, and then at Rory.  “Does he always sleep this heavily?”

“Yes.”

“Will you allow me to help him?  I can give him an IV, get him rehydrated in a day or so.”

“Please, whatever you can do.  I… I’m worried about him.”

The Doctor retrieved what he needed from the TARDIS.  Rory did not even stir when he set up the IV.  Brian left to run some errands, promising to be back in time to cook dinner.  The Doctor sat with Rory, reading and watching him sleep.  After four hours, he stirred, a bit.

The Doctor knelt by the bed, running a hand through Rory’s hair.  “Rory?” he said quietly.

“Mm,” Rory mumbled, stretching his legs and settling back.

The Doctor watched his face.  Pale eyelashes rested against the delicate skin beneath his eyes.  The skin looked bruised, almost purple.  The Doctor placed a hand against Rory’s cheek.  In his half-sleep, Rory turned his head into the touch.

“Rory, don’t be alarmed.  It’s me.  The Doctor.  But I’ve regenerated since you saw me last.”

Rory frowned, and his eyes fluttered open.  “Oh,” he said, staring steadily at the Doctor with sleepy eyes.  “I’ve seen pictures of you.”  He reached out and touched the Doctor’s face, tracing his features, touching his hair, his sideburns.  The Doctor closed his eyes, enjoying the examination.  After a moment, Rory frowned.  “Why are you here?”

“I came to check on you.”

“Why?”

“You’re woven into my timeline, Rory,” the Doctor smiled.  “I can feel _so much_ pouring back from my future self, and I know what my past self felt, after only an afternoon in your company.  I…  I’ve only just met you, and yet you’re under my skin.”  He leaned forward and kissed Rory.

Rory thrust his fingers into the Doctor’s impossible hair and returned the kiss, but then he was distracted by something pulling on his arm.  Pulling back, he looked.  “An IV?”

The Doctor sat back on his heels.  “It’s come to that, Rory.  I can get you hydrated again, but you need to stay that way.  You won’t need as much sleep, so you should get on a schedule.  Keep yourself hydrated.  Eat more than one meal a day.  Lay off the ginger beer.”

Rory turned onto his back, running a hand through his hair.  “I’m doing the best I can, here,” he said quietly.  “I… Everything still feels so strange, so… alien.  Shouldn’t I be getting used to this?”

“Rory, it’s a tremendous and fundamental change.  It’s going to take time to get used to it.  You already are, you know.  Your breathing is completely natural.  I would have thought you’d still be struggling with that, but I just watched you sleep for four hours, and your breathing did not hitch a single time.  That is remarkable progress.”

The Doctor hesitated, then leaned in, kissing Rory’s forehead as he turned back towards him.  “And then there’s the grief.  The loss of your humanity – I’d bet that’s the real source of your discomfort.  And missing your wife, and… me.  Future me, that is.”  He brushed his lips against Rory’s.  “I know you don’t believe me, but I still think they will return.”

“Then where are they?” Rory’s eyes glistened.  He had not allowed them a single tear, in all the weeks since they left.  He was afraid if he started, he wouldn’t be able to stop.  And also, he was too angry to give them the satisfaction.  Not that they’d ever know.  But he would not weep for them, not after they left him angry and confused and more hurt than he’d ever felt in his life. 

The Doctor saw all of this in Rory’s eyes, and he sighed.  “I don’t know.  But it’s not about flattering them with your tears.  It’s about relieving your own grief.  Rory, you need to take care of yourself.”  He caressed Rory’s face.  “What would you do, if they returned?”

“Part of me would want to tell them to fuck off.  Send them away again.”

The Doctor smiled sadly.  “And they’d deserve it.”

“But I’m a bit pathetic,” he said, “so that wouldn’t happen.”

“You are not pathetic, Rory.  You have so much love in your heart.  Hearts,” he amended, reaching out and placing his hand on Rory’s chest, between his two hearts.  He closed his eyes and smiled at the sensation.  He never thought he’d feel such a thing, again.  “You’ll probably forgive them, because it’s not in you to not love them.  But I do hope you make them squirm, just a bit.”

Rory laughed.  “That is about as far opposite to self-serving as I’ve ever seen you.”

The Doctor laughed, as well. 

“Is Rose with you?”  Rory regretted the question as soon as he saw the Doctor’s face fall.  He moved towards the middle of the bed and guided the Doctor in, with him.  “Tell me,” he whispered against the Time Lord’s ear.

The Doctor told Rory the whole story, right up to leaving Rose with his metacrisis doppleganger on the beach in Pete’s world, and then having to leave Donna, as well.  Rory held him, soothed him, cried with him.  By the time they heard Brian arrive with dinner, the Doctor was smiling again. 

“So me lying around, pining for a couple of losers who treated me badly probably seems rather self-indulgent, to you,” Rory said, his lips twitching.

“Weelllll, I wasn’t going to say anything,” the Doctor returned his smile.

They joined Brian downstairs, Rory carrying his IV bag with him as they went.  While they ate, Rory asked his father, “So when is your trip?”

Brian looked awkward.  “I decided not to go.”

Rory looked pained.  “Dad, please.  If you stay because of me, I’ll feel worse.”

“What’s this?” the Doctor asked.

“Dad always does a weekend away, every November.  He goes up to Edinburgh, and stocks up on his super-secret stash of whisky.”  Rory looked at his father, who was focused on his plate.  “Oh, God.  It was this weekend, wasn’t it?”

“Well, what’s stopping you from going tomorrow and returning Monday, Brian?” the Doctor asked.  “I can stay with Rory, if you’re worried.  I need to anyway, for the IV.”

Brian looked from one man to the other, and then grinned.  “I suppose that is the best solution.  It’ll even save me a few pounds, not staying a Saturday night.”

Rory slumped with relief, detesting the idea of being such a burden that he kept his father from doing something he enjoyed.  He gave the Doctor a grateful smile, which was returned with interest.  The man really did have the most spectacular grin!

Brian left to pack, and after clearing the kitchen, Rory and the Doctor went back to Rory’s room.  The Doctor helped Rory off with his shirt, disconnecting the IV tube from the port attached to his arm.  Before he could reconnect it, Rory caught his hand.  “Can that wait, for a bit?”

He kissed the Doctor, and continued kissing him as he removed his jacket, tie, shirt and vest.  “Blimey, how many layers do you need?” he broke the kiss to run his hands over the Doctor’s cool skin.  His hands went back to work, unbuttoning the Doctor’s trousers.  He knelt down, pulling the material with him, grinning to see the twin miracle of no pants and the Doctor’s interest, thoroughly piqued.

Rory reached down and untied the Doctor’s shoes, slipping them off, along with his trousers and socks.  He then ran his eyes back up the slender spectacle of naked Time Lord before him, the fire in the Doctor’s eyes igniting one in Rory’s belly.  He ran his hands up the Doctor’s legs, moving around to his stomach, up his chest, raking his fingers back down again as he buried his nose in the soft hair at the base of the Doctor’s cock.  “You are so beautiful,” he said as he took him into his mouth.

“Rory,” the Doctor sighed, allowing the warm, wet slide of Rory’s mouth to engulf him in pleasure for a few moments before stepping back.  He reached down and pulled Rory to his feet, kissing him as he untied the string keeping his sweatpants clinging to his hips.

They climbed into the bed and for a long while there was nothing but mouths and hands and skin and tongues and soft moans of pleasure as they patiently explored one another.  As patience waned, the Doctor reached into one of his magical pockets and pulled out a small bottle of just what was needed, slicking tender digits and gently preparing Rory’s body. 

By the time he was prepared, Rory had also been teased within an inch of madness.  But it only took one ‘please, Doctor’ for the fingers to be replaced by something much more spectacular, much more satisfying.  An exclamation of ‘God, yes’ helped them find a rhythm that was theirs alone – all patience and intensity, with a hint of need and a dash of desperation.

The Doctor reached between them and wrapped his hand around Rory’s cock, feeling the body beneath him unravelling quickly.  Rory bucked up into the Doctor’s hand, grinding back onto his cock, swearing and shouting as he shattered beneath the Time Lord’s attentions.  The tightening of Rory’s body around the Doctor’s ripped his orgasm from him, the force of it taking his breath away.

The Doctor gently separated from Rory and collapsed beside him, and they held to one another for a long while, listening to their heartsbeat calm.

“What’s wrong?” Rory asked when they had been quiet, for a while.

The Doctor frowned and looked at Rory.  They had both been so careful to keep their thoughts to themselves.  Spoilers, Rory had once called them.  Had he let something slip through?

Rory smiled.  “Nothing I heard or sensed.  You just seem…” he shifted.  “You don’t seem happy that just happened.”

The Doctor smiled.  “If anything, I am a bit too happy about that,” he replied.  “I don’t understand any of this.  I mean, I suppose I do, in a way.  I understand how my future self’s regard for you affects how I see you.  But what about you?  I cannot be very much like him.  Me.”  He shook his head.

“You’re… _you_ ,” Rory said.  “I feel…  I would know you, no matter the face you wore.  It’s not how you look, though each of you that I have encountered has been categorically, ridiculously, indecently _hot_.”  He punctuated the last work by squeezing a handful of the Doctor’s hotness, causing a gasp and a lustful jolt in response.

The Doctor laughed.  “So you don’t care what I look like?”  He seemed hesitant.

“I liked the last face, and I’m sorry I won’t see it again,” Rory replied.  “I am growing more fond by the hour of this face, and I can only hope that I’ll see it again.”

“How do you know you won’t see the ears again?”

Rory laughed.  Then he sobered.  “I just… don’t think I will.”

“But you think you might see me again?”

“I don’t know.  I hope so.  In the meantime, I plan to enjoy you as much as I am able.”

The Doctor smiled, then kissed Rory for a long time.  “I just have this ridiculous wish that you’ll love me, best.”

Rory chuckled and kissed him, long and deep.  “You’ll hate me for saying this, but I love each of you, best.  I love your past self best for being lost and cranky.  I love you best for being fierce and beautiful.  I love your future self best for being brilliant and daft.  I love Amy best for being ginger and sharp.  I love Jack the best for being incorrigible and gorgeous.”

The Doctor was staring at him, wide-eyed.  “Rory, I love you best for being love and loyalty,” he whispered, capturing his mouth again.

“Will you stay with me tonight?” Rory asked as they parted, looking as though he felt he was asking far too much.

“I was hoping to.  Do you mind the light, if I read when I wake?”

Rory shook his head.  The Doctor reattached the IV, and they slept before waking and loving again. 

***

The next morning, Rory woke from the most delicious dream to find he wasn’t dreaming.  He had a gorgeous Time Lord swallowing his cock and doing incredible things with his wicked fingers.  He came within seconds of waking.  The Doctor crawled up his body and gave him a long kiss good morning before getting out of bed and pulling on a pair of Rory’s sweatpants and one of his t-shirts.

The Doctor’s cock was hard, obscenely tenting the sweatpants, but he swatted Rory away, helping him dress, and dragging him down to the kitchen.  However, he looked far too irresistible to remain unmolested, and as soon as the kettle was on, Rory had him leaned against the counter, sucking him off.

Rory sat at the table and watched with no small amount of satisfaction as the Doctor moved about on wobbly legs, preparing them breakfast, chattering away.  As they ate, Rory felt the Doctor’s eyes on him.

“What?”

“I still don’t understand,” the Doctor said.  “You believe that I have abandoned you.  That I am not coming back.  Why do you want me?”

Rory huffed.  “I don’t know.  I mean, you’re you.  And I love you.  I can’t _not_ love you.  But you don’t look like the first you I loved, so it makes it easier to pretend that you love me, too.  I get to pretend that it’s not over, just for a while longer.”

“Oh, Rory, I wish I could make you believe that I do love you,” the Doctor said, taking his hand.

Rory looked at him, startled.

The Doctor smiled.  “I’m me, no matter what I look like, yeah?  So how can I not love you?”  He squeezed Rory’s hand.  “I am not lying to you when I say that a lot of how I feel is influenced by what my future self feels.  And I am not lying to you when I say that he loves you, dearly.”  The Doctor paused, running a hand through his hair.  “It frightens me, how much he must love you, for _me_ to feel this way.  And I can’t imagine how he must feel, knowing just how badly he’s hurt you, not knowing if he’ll be forgiven.  But I only feel the love.”

They went for a short walk, and then returned to bed, where they stayed for the rest of the day.  The Doctor would occasionally forage for food or tea, but otherwise they stayed close to one another.  Rory could tell that something was preoccupying the Doctor.  Late in the night, in the dark, his face buried in Rory’s chest, the Doctor confessed to attempting to change a fixed point.

“She killed herself.  I forced her to make that terrible decision,” he sobbed.

“Shh,” Rory soothed.  “You tried to help.  I don’t know how you bear them, Doctor, the fixed points.  Having to stand back and bear witness.  It’s a wonder you don’t try to help more often.  Yeah, you made a crap decision, but your hearts were in the right place.”

“I’m going to die, soon,” the Doctor said quietly.

Rory felt his stomach turn cold.  “Are you afraid?”

“I know I’ll keep going, but… I won’t be me anymore.  I rather like me.”

Rory smiled in the darkness.  “You’ll still be you, Love.”

He felt the Doctor smile against his chest.  _Call me Theta, Rory_.

Rory jumped, slightly.  “What?”

“I will leave it to him to tell you my name.  It’s only fair; he was there first.  Damn him,” he muttered the last, and Rory chuckled and kissed his head.  “Time Lords take on a title according to Gallifreyan custom, and thereafter only share our real names under singular circumstances.  But what I will share with you now is my nickname from the academy.”  He rose up on one elbow and looked at Rory.  “For us, when we’re alone together.” 

He kissed Rory, then, and they spoke no more for a while, other than the usual nonsensical exclamations that accompanied their joining.  Rory was moving deep inside him, sending him closer to the edge when a whispered, “Come for me, Theta, my Love,” sent him screaming over it, pulling Rory happily along, after.

***


	7. Farewell

The Doctor left again on Tuesday afternoon.  He and Rory had not strayed far from Rory’s bed during the previous two days, but they parted happy and exhausted, each refusing to face the belief that this was likely the last time either would see the other.

The Doctor had kept Rory attached to an IV until that morning, determined to ensure that he was as healthy as possible before being left on his own, again.  The Doctor had also looked through the materials that his future self had left with Rory, and he left the list of do’s and don’ts out for Brian to look through.

“Promise you’ll eat,” the Doctor said between kisses.  Rory had him leaned against one of the coral struts in the TARDIS. 

“I promise,” Rory mumbled against his neck, nipping at the tender spot behind his ear.

They had been goodbying for over an hour. 

Rory sighed and leaned back.  “You need to make yourself forget, this time.  You didn’t last time,” he nipped the Doctor’s ear and muttered, “not that I’m complaining.  But you need to forget me, at least for a while, or our relationship won’t develop properly.”

“I know, Love,” the Doctor was amused that Rory was trying to explain temporal causality to him.

“I know you know, but you knew before, too, didn’t you?” Rory grinned.

“I knew I had time,” the Doctor returned his grin.

Rory’s face grew still and serious.  He dropped his mask and allowed the Doctor to see all of him.  “I love you best for being fierce and beautiful, Theta,” he whispered, leaning in for one last kiss.

The Doctor choked for a moment but returned the kiss, holding on to Rory for a long time.  When they parted, Rory stepped out of the door and the Doctor walked to the console.  Neither looked back.  The Doctor took the TARDIS into the vortex and tinkered with his memory, setting the sting of regeneration sickness and the memory of giving away his last piece of Gallifreyan moon rock as the trigger for remembering it all.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> S.O.S by Rsjessen inspired this. 
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/417670/chapters/694173
> 
> I was intrigued by the idea of Rory being left behind, though my interpretation takes a more angsty turn.


End file.
